The number of Australians in Dublin is fast approaching plague proportions.
It's almost as bad as London. Can't swing a cat in Dublin without hitting some twit
with a goatee wearing a mambo t-shirt.

Today I went to Croke Park to watch the semi-final
of the Gaelic Football between Galway and Derry. I had hoped that I would get to sit
next to a chatty Irishman who could talk underwater and who would know what
every player had had for breakfast. Alas, the bloke who sat next to me said hardly
a word to me. And then, to make matters worse, a bloody Australian sheila was sitting
behind me and she didn't shut up!

I managed to fall asleep at half-time! Exhausted from my exertions yesterday,
obviously.

(Galway overran Derry in the second half, overcoming a five point deficit to run
out three point winners 1-14 to 1-11.)